


i’m tryin' to eat out (so what we goin' to dinner for?)

by badbadnotgood



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, God Bless Eve Polastri, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25042768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badbadnotgood/pseuds/badbadnotgood
Summary: “You wanna eat out now?” Villanelle breathes.Eve looks at her, dumbfounded. “We’ve already had dinner.”
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 6
Kudos: 173





	i’m tryin' to eat out (so what we goin' to dinner for?)

Villanelle has her skincare serums lined up on Eve’s dresser, her intentions being to use every one of them and take a nap in Eve's bed, when Eve says it:

“I think we should do something normal this weekend. Couple-normal.”

Eve’s voice is tentative, like she’s been playing with this idea all day, unsure Villanelle would welcome the suggestion. They’re working on it. It’s early days, Villanelle acknowledges, and she wants Eve to be comfortable with asking her the sort of things you would ask your girlfriend. Villanelle’s getting better at listening and asking, too, because relationships are hard for her and they both know that. They’re working on it.

She’s still Villanelle, though.

“I offered to fuck you in the shower, and you declined. I’ve done my part.”

She will never get tired of how flustered Eve gets when she talks to her like that. The way her eyes bug out of her head and her pretty mouth lets out a choked sound. Ever.

“I _meant_ ,” Eve folds her arms defensively, “something romantic. Dinner? A movie?”

“Me fucking you isn’t romantic? I’m offended.”

“God,” Eve huffs, ”it’s like talking to a sex addict.”

“Don’t butter me up, now, Eve.”

Eve knows she’s playing, or Villanelle hopes she does. That night at the bridge revealed a lot to Villanelle that wasn’t already apparent. She needs Eve in a lot of ways, emotionally and physically. She pushed that feeling when she walked away from Eve out of her mind and heart, replaced it with the warmth in her chest when Eve kissed her that night. Weeks later, they’ve been inseparable, and Villanelle finally feels whole.

“I was married to a man for years, date nights kept me going.”

“Don’t remind me,” Villanelle mumbles. She tolerated Niko because at that time, Eve loved him, and anyone important to Eve at least deserves Villanelle’s time of day. But him and his Joseph Stalin moustache are gone now. Eve’s told her as much. They’ve moved past that.

Eve rubs a hand over her face, annoyed. “Forget I said anything,” she says.

That won’t do.

“Hey,” Villanelle says. She stands from the dresser and catches Eve, hands settling on her waist. She walks Eve backwards to the bed. Eve goes down, shuffles back, and Villanelle straddles her slowly, hands coming up to cradle Eve’s face. “You know I’ll give you anything you want. Dinner, roses, the most expensive champagne I can find. I’ll give you all of it, and you shouldn’t be afraid to ask. I know our love languages are different, but Eve,” she tilts Eve’s face up, makes Eve meet her eyes, “I’m learning every part of you.”

The prettiest grin fills Eve’s face. “You’re so mushy when you want to be.”

Villanelle kisses her quiet. She tastes of the red wine they had with dinner, rich and earthy, so Villanelle kisses and kisses her until she gets down to the sweetness that’s all Eve.

“I’ll take you out this weekend,” Villanelle tells her between kisses. “You can get all dressed up for me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eve tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and licks at it. Villanelle’s brain forgets words. “I’ll wear that blue dress you like. The strappy one.”

“Mm. So good to me.”

Minutes pass as they kiss like that, hot and sensual, Villanelle’s hands running through Eve’s curls, over her neck and shoulders. Eve’s hands slip up the hem of Villanelle’s t-shirt and follow the dips of her back, warm fingertips making her shiver and tremble.

“You wanna eat out now?” Villanelle breathes.

Eve looks at her, dumbfounded. “We’ve had already dinner.”

“Exactly,” Villanelle says. She drags herself from Eve’s lap with great restrain and sits at the foot of the bed, watching. “Take your pants off.”

Eve shivers, literally shivers, shaky hands going for the button of her jeans. Villanelle watches, eyes drinking in the sight like she has a front row seat to something grand and spectacular. Which is no hyperbole since Eve undressing frantically for Villanelle lights a fire in her like nothing else.

Eve pulls her jeans down her legs and watches Villanelle _look._ Her legs shine from the warm glow of the bedside lap and curve beautifully at the thigh, the thickness of them making Villanelle _want_. She reaches for the hem of her shirt next, lifts her arms to pull the fabric over her head, curls bouncing back in place over her shoulders.

She’s gorgeous, Villanelle thinks. _And she’s mine_.

“I love when you undress for me,” Villanelle thinks aloud.

Eve flushes at the praise, breath coming in short and fast. The way Villanelle’s looking at her must give her that last push of confidence, because then she’s peeling away her bra and panties, dropping them to the floor, eyes not leaving Villanelle’s.

“Come get a taste, then,” Eve says, and Villanelle’s brain short-circuits.

She gathers herself and kisses her way up Eve’s amazing legs, open-mouthed and with teeth when she gets to her thighs. Eve smells of clean laundry and Villanelle’s expensive body wash. It’s comforting. Villanelle could fuck her then fall asleep right there between her legs.

Sex with Eve is nothing like her past intoxicated hook-ups, where she just wanted to get off, get them off and get them out of her apartment. It’s quieter, slower, with Villanelle paying close attention to every single gasp, shiver and moan that comes from Eve’s body. She’s learned what Eve likes, but more importantly, Eve’s learned what she likes _herself_. She tells Villanelle _harder, faster,_ _right there, touch me here_ , and Villanelle doing just that has made Eve scream more times than she can count.

Eve hisses at the little nips Villanelle gives the sensitive parts of her thighs, opening them wide like an invitation. The breathy gasps Eve makes send white-hot jolts between Villanelle’s legs. She doesn’t even need to press a hand to herself to know that she’s soaking just from watching and listening to Eve.

“Stop teasing,” Eve groans.

By the time Villanelle presses her tongue flat against Eve, Eve’s _drenched_. Villanelle laps at her, swirls her tongue over Eve’s clit like she can't get enough. She grins at the way Eve whines in her throat. She keeps at it, flicking her tongue fast and firm, just how Eve likes it. Eve’s hips move as if separate from her, craving all the contact she can get, and Villanelle lets her fuck her face from the bottom.

“Holy fucking shit,” Eve hisses.

Villanelle replaces her mouth with two fingers, pressure and speed consistent, so Eve doesn’t lose her high. “You gonna come for me, baby? Come on, I wanna feel you in my mouth.”

She drops her head back quickly, slides the fingers from Eve’s clit right inside her, the wetness making Villanelle slip into her beautifully. She can't help but groan loudly at how wet Eve is for her. Eve trembles below her, grabs at the sheets recklessly as Villanelle twists and curls her fingers just right, tongue flicking over Eve’s clit one, two, three more times until Eve’s clenching hard around her thrusts and screaming.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whines.

Villanelle slows her pace, pulls out her fingers gently and laps at the wetness. Eve shudders through the aftershocks, whimpering from the gentle touches of Villanelle’s lips against her. Eve sits up when she’s caught her breath.

“Come here,” Eve says, voice rough.

Villanelle rips off her clothes in record time, not leaving Eve’s heated gaze for a second. She walks on her knees over to Eve and hovers like that in Eve’s lap. She presses three fingers to herself and confirms what she already knew: she’s incredibly fucking turned on.

“Two fingers,” Villanelle tells her.

Her eyes roll back into her head when Eve slides those fingers into her. She slips a hand into Eve’s hair, now matted with sweat, and pulls gently at the strands until Eve looks up at her.

“Yeah,” she breathes, “like that.”

When she rubs at her clit with her other hand, Eve matches the speed with her fingers, twisting and curling them just like Villanelle did, and it’s not long until Villanelle feels that warm pull in her stomach. Eve’s so good, so fucking good at listening and knowing what she likes.

She must have said that last part out loud, because Eve quickens her fingers, says, “So come, then,” and Villanelle’s orgasm hits her like a fucking freight train. Her thighs shake and burn underneath her, and Eve kisses praise into her skin, pulling her down over her and swallowing her moans.

*

Later, they curl up in bed together and watch a film. Villanelle thinks back to what Eve said earlier, about wanting to do normal couple things. She thinks this might as one of them, though it’s at the bottom of Villanelle’s internal list.

“I really will take you out whenever you want, Eve,” she says into the darkness. “I’ll date the fuck out of you.”

Eve’s laugh makes her stomach flutter. “That’d be really nice.”

“Definitely this weekend?”

“I don’t have plans,” Eve says.

Villanelle kisses her. “You do now. Big plans.”

Eve hums, content, fast asleep against Villanelle within minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from christian dior denim flow by kanye 🥴
> 
> thank you so much for reading lovelies <3
> 
> [tumblr](https://rapweezer.tumblr.com/)


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